Wording Is Everything
by allroadslead2coffee
Summary: For lovers of the story CHAMPAGNE TASTES: Leon is granted one of his deepest? desires, but not by Count D. leon/D implied.


**Warning:** male/male STRONGLY insinuated

**Summary:** Leon is granted something he greatly desires, but not by Count D.

**A/N:** I've aleadey posted this a while back ago and then removed it. It HAD become my favorite FINISHED work, and I was kinda hurt that it didn't get many reviews or "Favorite"-ings. Since CHAMPAGNE TASTES seemed to do a little better, I thought I'd bring WORDING IS EVERYTHING back for another try. I have no idea if I'm going to tell how the Phoenix came into the picture. I WILL post more stories like this if enough encouragement to do so manifests.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Petshop of Horrors or any of the main characters…and I'm not making any money from posting this work.

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**WORDING IS EVERYTHING**

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Phoenix:_ "As a reward, I will grant any desire of your choice."_

"Yeah, right." Leon said suspiciously. "I"ve seen movies about stuff like this, where someone gets offered a wish and it's booby trapped once it's granted. This is just some kinda trick like that. I'm not fallin for it!"

Phoenix:_ "There is no deception, and no danger in how you word what you choose. What is your desire, Leon Orcot? Tell me what you want, and it shall be given to you."_

"Anything?" Leon asked skeptically.

Phoenix:_ "Whatever your desire is, you have simply to name it."_

Leon turned his head and gave Count D a predatory grin, "You're in for it now!" he said with triumphant satisfaction gleaming sharply in his blue eyes. He whipped his head back to face the waiting being. "Something I've wanted for a long time now…"

Count D said nothing, sadness, disappointment, and resentment blossomed in his chest. The detective would ask for irrefutable evidence that would prove him guilty of at least one of the death's of his former customers. His eyes narrowed reproachfully once the human was no longer facing him, and he waited to hear what the detective would ask for, ready to find any loophole there might be in Leon's wording. His worst fear, however, was that Leon would wish to know who or what he was, or worse, to know everything about him.

Leon inhaled deeply. "I want…" he paused, like an executioner raising the axe and holding it just a moment before bringing it down "…a La Primvelle's strawberry covered chocolate cake---that Count D there'll like better than any he's ever had before." The second part of his statement was given visual clarification with a thrust of his thumb towards the anxious pet shop owner.

The Phoenix smiled knowingly, and bowed. "_It shall be so---_" her voice seemed to boom in volume and then become a fading echo, as she, herself, faded from everyone's sight as well.

Count D had gasped at the end of Leon's statement. His eyes were wide and wild with shock and disbelief.

Leon's head was whipping around frantically, as though he were looking for an armed criminal's hiding place. He stiffened, then charged to the familiar table in front of the sofa. "There it is!" He blinked, looking happily surprised. "Kinda funny. I was expectin it t'be in a box." He looked up at Count D, and his expression suddenly became very serious. "I'll understand if you don't wanna try it. Just throw it away if you want. I won't hold it against you." He promised a bit timidly. "It looks pretty nice, though, doesn't it?" A bit of the earlier delight returned to his face, as he looked at Count D hopefully.

There was a sudden lancing ache that went through Count D, and tears began to well up in his eyes. "I…I…don't--" His head began to turn from side to side slowly.

"Aw, shit." Leon had a flash of realization, and wiped at his face with the palm of his hand. "Is this one of those things between two people, 'cause Alexander Van Whatsizface is the one who told me this was your favorite, and I don't remember ever seein you eating one of these." He pinched at the bridge of his nose with closed eyes. "Shit. I should've asked…." He let out a long sigh. "Look, D, I'll understand if you don't want it. Hell! I still can't go near most Chinese food since the thing with Wong."

Count D shook his head a little more frantically, and the tears began to spill freely down his face. "No, you don't understand…" He took a shaky breath, "I expected you to ask for something for yourself, not for me." A large, rather double tear cascaded from one eye and fell to the floor to punctuate his answer.

Leon brought his hand down, and started walking towards the weeping enigma of his life. "Well, I kinda did." He said hesitantly.

Count D's tears seemed to abate slightly, and he blinked his confusion. "I don't understand."

The big, bad, American homicide detective turned red in the face with embarrassment, but he'd rather deal with that, than let the crying go unstopped. He let out a great might-as-well-get-it-over-with sigh. "Well, ever since that first champagne torte thingy that I gave you, just after we met, I guess I just…" he cringed "…liked seeing you lose it whenever I gave you something you really liked." He bent his head down to finish his admission to the floor. "It's the only time I'm ever sure about what you're thinking or feeling…no guessing, no doubts. You're…" his shoulders shrugged in defeat, "…happy, really happy…about something I did." His head lifted and turned to look back at the cake. "Except, this time, I fucked it up…real good."

"No!" Count D almost yelled, and rushed over to Leon, reaching boldly to turn the detective's face towards him again. "You didn't, Leon. You didn't." He smiled up at Leon in adoration, although more tears spilled from his eyes and fell from his face.

Leon's hands came up to cup one side of shop keeper's jawline gently, "…but, you're crying…." His thumb swiped at the tear trails as if to prove his point.

Count D didn't know what to say, and began to feel, at that moment, like he shouldn't need to. He started to shake from a hiccoughing laugh, his smile deepening, and eyes began dancing warmly. "You can be such an idiot sometimes." He blinked away the last of the tears, sniffling happily.

"What—" Leon's brow wrinkled fiercely, and he started his own blinking fit.

Before the detective could get out anything more, Count D's hands moved in a flash, resting on the detective's chest and then sliding quickly around to his back. His chest pressed against Leon's, and one side of his face rested on his shoulder. Shutting his eyes contentedly, he waited to be grabbed and pushed away. He was given another incredible surprise when Leon's arms came around and held him even closer.

"You're happy, then?" Leon whispered the question in his ear. "The cake's alright?"

Humming out a long sigh of contentment, Count D purred below the strong jaw-line, "It's perfect." He felt Leon starting to pull away from him a little, but looked up to find that it was only so that he could look down into his own face.

"Really?" Relief and hope were naked in Leon's searching eyes.

Count D looked back up at him with a satiated cat-like smile. "Mmmm-hmmmm." His head dropped down to rest once more against the warm shoulder. "I like it better than any I've ever had before."

Leon stiffened, then realized that he'd meant to ask for a cake that **_tasted_ **better than any Count D had ever had before. His mouth flinched into a sheepish smile and he relaxed, then tightened his arms a little more around the body held in them, and rested the side of his face against silken black hair. He closed his eyes, and breathed one more confession, "I'm so glad…"

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